::weak wave::  Hello again, everyone...

I know it's been a while since I've sent anything of any importance to 
the ML (come to think of that, have I ever?), but I've made a few 
strides in the Laughing Target fusion, and wanted a little feedback.  To 
be sure, some of the narrative follows the original anime... maybe I'm 
overdoing it?

At any rate, this section feels a little lighter than the original 
Laughing Target story.  Maybe that's to be expected, given that Ranma's 
a comedy, maybe that's inappropriate, given that my situation is 
essentially, tragically, unchanged.

I have written a little bit beyond this section, and the full (well, you 
know what I mean) story can be found at 

http://members.aol.com/ukyoukwnji/unfinshd/laughtgt.htm

Anyway, onward...

**********

WHEN THE TARGET LAUGHS, part two


In her little village, nestled along the borders of Kyoto and Osaka 
prefectures, Ukyou had never been well-regarded among her fellow 
children. She was the girl who had to work for a living, frying up what 
some disdained as 'carny food', so the other girls wouldn't associate 
with her -- not that she had the time to be bothered by that. Boys, too, 
tended to avoid this tomboyish cook, whose gruff father seemed well nigh 
unapproachable to the average six-year-old. 

But then, a newcomer came to town with his father, a couple of nomadic 
martial artists, searching for the ultimate martial techniques. The son 
was about Ukyou's age, and saw in her an ideal playmate. 

Not that Ukyou viewed what little Ranma was doing to her as 'playing.' 
To her, it was deadly earnest -- fight the interloper off, before he 
could steal another okonomi-yaki from her father's yatai. But one day, 
as she picked herself up from the dust after her usual defeat, she 
looked up guiltily into her father's eyes... 

...and saw a smile and a twinkle. 

It turned out that he'd been provoking the fights in the first place. 
The Saotomes, with their hand-to-mouth existance on the fringes of 
society, were barely able to provide for themselves. Kuonji-san, at the 
same time, had decided it was time his little Ukyou learn some martial 
arts, and, at the same time, make friends with a boy. This, to him, was 
the perfect arrangement. So, he had let it slip to Ranma (unbeknownst to 
Ukyou), that if he could defeat Ukyou, he would get an okonomi-yaki for 
himself and for his father. 

The twinkle in Kuonji-san's eye was pride in his daughter's growing 
skill. True, Ranma was still the better fighter, and most likely would 
always be, but that was to be expected. He had, after all, already 
dedicated his few years to study of the Art, and Ukyou was far too far 
behind him to catch up. But the fact the she would not give up trying 
was enough to make Kuonji-san proud. 

Ukyou caught her father's smile, and while she continued to fight Ranma 
with all her might, from that day forth it was Ucchan who would make 
Ran-chan's okonomi-yaki herself... just as soon as he'd pulled her up 
from the ground and she dusted herself off. 

"You're gettin' pretty good, Ucchan." Ranma might say, as Ukyou stood 
before her sizzling grill. 

"At which, fighting or cooking?" 

"Well... both, really." 

"You mean it?" Ukyou practically glowed. Her sauce brush flew across 
Ran-chan's okonomi-yaki, and painted a goofy smiley face on it. Ranma 
leaned over her shoulder. 

"Say... that's pretty cute, Ucchan." 

Ukyou turned away, so that Ranma couldn't see her blush. She quickly 
took a sheet of waxed paper from a drawer underneath the grill and 
deftly scooped the okonomi-yaki onto the paper from the grill. "It's 
yours, Ran-chan." 

That grateful smile of his was somehow worth all the beatings he'd 
administered to her over the past few months. He sat down on a nearby 
tree root and began happily devouring his prize. 

"Y'know..." he said, cheeks full of okonomi-yaki, "I wish this could go 
on forever..." 

Ukyou blinked in surprise. "Do you mean it, Ran-chan?" 

Ranma looked up at his friend's eyes; now it was his turn to look 
surprised. And maybe a little confused. Ucchan's tone was a little more 
earnest than he'd expected. The look in his friend's eyes held more 
meaning than he had when he'd said that. But... "Yeah, sure... I guess 
so." Then he looked down a bit; his eyes wouldn't let Ucchan's gaze hold 
onto him. "...The problem is, I can't stay here much longer. Pop said 
the other day that we're gonna haveta move on soon." 

The news hit her harder than any blow he had ever landed on her. 
"Going...?" It came out as a tentative squeak. 

"Uh-huh. Pop's looking into some training grounds further off. Down 
south, in Kyushu or Shikoku, and maybe eventually we'll be going to 
Korea and China... who knows? So I'm gonna be leaving soon." Ukyou's 
heart hurt as the little boy rattled off places he might be visiting in 
his quest, places she knew she'd never get to see. And he sounded so 
enthusiatic about it, too... 

Ukyou fought back tears. "Will I ever see you again?" 

"I sure hope so... we're friends, aren't we?"  Ranma's response was 
bright and cheery. 

The tears vanished from Ukyou's eyes. "You mean it?" 

That question again. Something told Ranma he should be a little nervous 
about how he responded. As was to become customary, he ignored it. 
"Sure..." 

"Let's promise..."  She held out her pinky. Ranma blinked and stared 
momentarily at Ukyou's gesture. Then, grinning, he wrapped his pinky 
around hers, and the two of them shook on it. 

So, it was done. The promise had been made. Now all Ukyou needed to do 
was to arrange this so the promise would be that much easier for 
Ran-chan to keep... 

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Old man Kuonji was crounched down on his haunches, his brow furrowed 
with concern at his daughter's suggestion. "You're a little young to be 
thinking about marriage, don't you think, Ukyou?" 

Ukyou had on a look of petulant determination. She was irresistably 
cute. "I know what I want, Daddy. Ran-chan's my best friend... he's the 
only friend I've ever had! And now he's *leaving!*" She fought back the 
tears, and composed herself. "I wanna go with them. I thought, maybe, I 
could be engaged to him..." 

Tatsuhiro Kuonji smiled at his daughter. "Let me talk with Ranma's 
father. I'll see what I can do." 

------------------------------------------------------------------------

She walked through the park, trying to clear her thoughts. She had 
broken down and given Mitsukuru-sensei her notice; she was leaving. As 
much as Mitsukuru was forced to admit that he had taught his prodigy as 
much as he could, he was still sad to see Ukyou go. 

He would have been the first to admit that it partly from selfish 
reasons -- Ukyou's skill and showmanship had built up a considerable 
clientele, and he dreaded the possibility of losing customers to 
wherever it was that Ukyou was moving on to. 

At the same time, Ukyou's imminent departure bothered him for reasons 
far outweighing business concerns. It may have been that Ukyou had 
learned much of the craft of okonomi-yaki, but in other ways, the child 
had yet to mature, and Mitsukuru-sensei had said so upon receiving the 
news. Especially if this had something to do with that bully. What Ukyou 
was doing was nothing less than running away from a problem. 

"Stand up to him and fight!" Mitsukuru-sensei's words echoed in her 
ears. She sat down on a bench, buying her face in her hands, weeping 
bitterly. How could she tell him that she had? 

She could not afford to cry for long. She needed to know... where to go 
from here? It was a constant dilemna she faced with every move she made. 
That didn't make things any easier, though. 

A nearby wastebin held a few newspapers. Maybe they could provide some 
guidance; any okonomiyaki-yas that were hiring, perhaps. She could only 
hope that the classified section was included in the discarded pile. 

It was the local color news her eyes fell onto first: The all-Tokyo Miss 
Martial Arts Takeout Delivery Race. Mitsuruku-sensei had been approached 
about entering a contestant, but had demurred, claiming he had no female 
staff as the rules seemed to require. Ukyou, obviously, said nothing... 
despite the fact that she thought she could have done well in such a 
competition. 

Imagine her annoyance to discover that the race had been one by Ranma 
Saotome, representing Ichiban Ramen, Nerima. She *knew* he was a male... 
what was *he* doing competing?  "Damn. I coulda run as a male, and maybe 
I coulda won." She shrugged as she tossed the section back into the waste 
bin. No sense in crying over spilled milk, after all, and there are more 
pressing matters to attend to, such as finding... 

...RANMA SAOTOME??!! She snatched the paper back from the bin. There 
were no pictures, but the profile was unmistakable. Blood type A 
positive, father Genma Saotome, nearly seventeen years old... it had to 
be him. She had found him, and he was in Nerima. 

A bright red aura began to flare around her, and the sounds of howling 
and chirping could be heard throughout the park. Ukyou was angry -- that 
meant food! The sound was oppressive in Ukyou's ears. 

She fought back the maddening spirits; she would have her vengeance, and 
she would be in full control when she got it. The din died down to 
nothing, and a thin smile appeared on her lips. No longer would she be 
merely running away from something... she now had something to run 
*toward*. Something she'd been pursuing all her life. 

**********

It's starting to take shape, I think.  I still don't like being Asuza, 
but that's the way it's gotta be... I only hope I can be more sympathetic
than she.

Comments and suggestions are welcomed, nay, begged for.  Flames, even...
if I'm screwing this thing up, I wanna know.

Itsu mo,
Ucchan